


Making, breaking, re-creating

by Ka_she_who_lurks



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: And I'm sticking to it, Gen, I wrote it as Leige, but I'll guess I'll stick to the established spelling of the tags, destined character death averted, which is one of the canon spellings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-21 00:18:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12445173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ka_she_who_lurks/pseuds/Ka_she_who_lurks
Summary: Solus is destined for death.And then she is not.





	Making, breaking, re-creating

**Author's Note:**

> Getting a little meta at one point.

You take metal and starlight and make it into something more.  
This is what you do, what you want to do, and what brings you peace even as you know you were born, crafted, forged, for war.

 

Being a multiversal singularity is this:  
You are a constant.  
What you do is a constant.  
What happens to you is a constant. Perhaps not in the details, but definitely in the broad strokes.  
You are multidimensional, and time is in some ways another direction one can - perhaps not see in, but get a feel for the outline of what may come, certainly.

The story is this: the girl dies.  
You know this story.  
You are sick and tired of this story.  
Where others, who know little of being the girl, merely see it in passing, merely see it as something shocking, or something that fits in how things are supposed to be, or don't see it at all, you can't help but see.  
You are the girl, and the girl dies. Tragedy, drama, and such deep feelings in the survivors. 

And you?  
You are starting to get angry.

The impossible emerges from under your hands, but time is a relentless direction, and you've not yet found a way to make it possible for you, the girl, to not die.  
You continue to craft, hoping to change the story.

 

They call you someone close to flawless, because you know how to show your affection openly, because you know how to express the softer, gentler parts of yourself others have difficulty getting across. You and your siblings are born, crafted, forged for war, and most of them think this means they must be strong, and hard, and unyielding even when they don’t need to be.  
You know the best steel is not just hardness, but intermingled with softness so it will not shatter, and with people, you found, it is much the same.  
So where many of your siblings clumsily hide their softness, you do not.

They call you close to flawless, because who would find fault in feeling loved?  
They fail to see the parts of you that can be petty, too quick to judge, the parts of you that delight in fire and destruction.  
The parts that you can set aside when you have a clear goal in mind, when the path to take is easy to see, when the challenges you face are something you love to puzzle out. 

Metal and starlight and elements twisted and reborn in new shapes.  
Technology turning, opening like this, closing like this, self-repairing like this, enduring millennia like this, releasing power like this, capable of being wielded like this, beautiful like this, recognizing the quality you and your siblings have, even when limited to four dimensions, like this... and then you forge the metal, down to the molecule, down to its shadow in other dimensions, into a work of pure craft.  
You don't know a word for this feeling, but it feels utterly and completely right.

 

Holding more than two thoughts in one's head is something any sapient, and even a fair number of sentient creatures can do.  
No, that is not what you excel in over your siblings.  
The key is this: There is a little more to your art than what is seen. You are more than four dimensions. Why shouldn't your work reflect that?  
The insight needed for this skill is as much a matter of practice as it is of talent.

 

A forge is something that softens up metal to the point that it can be used, changed, warped and worked.  
The one you can carry around with you is in the shape of a hammer. No-one questions why this is. Why should they, after all?  
After they've seen how a single blow softened and warped Unicron's armour?

 

You quite like things that can be carried and have more than one purpose. This is why many of your works are sword-shaped.  
That Nexus quite liked swords was a happy coincidence. Excited mutual chattering about the make of the weaponry was a natural consequence.  
You didn’t understand why some among your siblings thought him haughty, disliking to speak on things he considered obvious, certainly disliking explaining or repeating his words, when you and he could talk for hours about the molecular composition of an edge, or the best ways to make different joint-types work.

Soon, Nexus had more swords than he knew what to do with, and he delighted in every single one.

 

Strong, flexible, multipurpose, change the colour by heating it like this, change the composition for this or that effect, bring out a useful or interesting quality in other metals that otherwise would only be a weakness, if you had to pick one metal to love, you'd choose iron.  
Iron is forged in the death of stars, before the burst.

Vector is enchanted by the gold born of novas, and while it does have its charm, you prefer iron.  
For Vector, you perfect the ways you work gold, make it elaborate and multi-layered.  
Vector liked a bit of showmanship, a bit of drama and a touch of cleverness. What you make him reflects that preference.  
But underneath all that, he is simple, steady, with a love for certain constants.

His armour is decorated, inlaid with gold, the colours complementing each other, everything swirling and elegant, but you keep the underlaying shapes simple, strong, reliable, with the simplest way to deflect blows - being curved - added to an armour already strong enough to last an eternity.

 

They call you close to flawless, and Leige takes it as an insult, and insinuation that he is not.  
Rather than say "Ah, but I weave stories, beget wonder and delight even as there are few of us, and our father-planet is still forming to be more than bare metal, I fill the world with things, ideas and feelings none of my sibs have yet thought of!", he fails to see his own qualities and envies you yours. 

You refuse to pity him.  
You do not understand why he tries to set your siblings against each other with twisting words and implied insults, so you confront him, head on, like a hammer to metal.  
He is cleverer with words than you are, you know this, and that this is very much a match to be won with words, rather than weapons. 

He has the advantage. He fails to see this.  
You are barely catching up, only hanging on by your stubbornness, your conviction that you are right, your outrage that he would set out to hurt your siblings, a part of you insulted by the fact that he looks down on himself, even as you snarl in rage at his petty, stinging, poisonous words, and he thinks you stand on equal footing in the one skill he has over his siblings. 

You are born, forged, crafted for war, and you do not know how to make your words reach another spark, how to say precisely what you mean and how to achieve the desired effect.  
You try and try, but you don’t know how to win this war of words, and do not know that in situations such as this, it is not a matter of winning, but of mutual understanding, of giving space and mutual respect.  
In attempting to win an argument such as this, everyone loses.

Perhaps, eventually, you will learn, maybe even before the very sight of Leige fills you with rage and twists your mouth down in distaste, before every word with him becomes a battle of wills.

Too late, too late.

 

Nexus remade raised his arms.  
Two swords meet, both crafted by your hands, your skill, your will, one made to travel and explore, one made to protect your oldest, most lonely sibling, and the story is unmade.  
You live.

In some worlds you may yet perish, in some other people do.  
But you live, in a thousand, million, trillion worlds, each aspect of you finally free to become something more.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, anyone liking the idea that the creation lathe is kinda like those holographic design screens in Tony Stark's workshop?  
> I mean, with six sides, you know it’s not just a “make the thingy spin so you can work it all round” tool. 
> 
> Or if it is, maybe it’d work as some kind of “make the parts float” device.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm kinda too ace for the Megatronus/Solus bullshit, because what exactly is attractive about Megatronus?  
> I mean, if it was played as some kind of creation-destruction dual divinity thing, it could work, but there's makes stuff girl and destroy the universe guy and so far, the only likable thing about this asshole is that he has a decent sense of drama, likes to fight and makes a good villain, and I'm not seeing anything romantic or "decent life partner" in that.  
> Sparring partner maybe.  
> Or if they both were written to have an appetite for destruction, but no. Only he is. (which is why it's implied she likes the boom and whoosh here, since that really is the main thing I see as something she might have in common with Megatronus)
> 
> She might have a trolling sense of humour, since Micronus has, and apparently they've enough in common for a friendship, but even that is only a maybe.  
> For all I know she likes terrible puns.
> 
> As for her other some-universes friends; Nexus and Onyx in the IDW verse both seem to be arrogant douchelords, and she's a bit callous and a tribe-leader and probably a warlord in IDW as well (in that universe, her friendship with Megatronus makes sense, I think. Allied equals in a similar position and all.)


End file.
